Unrequited Love 2011
by Kyraillion
Summary: All was going well, until the day he got shot... This is a drastic edit of my previous fic, Unrequited Love. Hopefully my writing style and plot creating abilities have improved since those days. Please read and review.
1. Blood

**Author's Note: For clarification purposes, this fic is a mulligan of a previously posted fic of the same title. Various parts of the story will be different from the previous version and hopefully all parts will be more in depth. Please take a moment to review this fic. Your reviews are essential in planning the edits of subsequent chapters. Standard Disclaimer applies.**

**Unrequited Love**

Riza arrived early to work that morning. The Lieutenant Colonel had phoned her from his home at a very early hour requesting her presence at the command center a full three hours before her scheduled arrival. Roy was investigating, digging through case files, and snooping through recordings of phone calls; all in an effort to bring Hughes's murderer to trial. As thrilled as Riza was that Roy was actually _working_, she couldn't help but worry for her commanding officer. The man was borderline obsessed and Riza could only hope that he wouldn't stick his nose in this business and wind up like his best friend. She had no idea what she would do if they lost Roy too. But she couldn't think about that, and so she quickly pushed the thought from her mind.

As she turned the corner toward the command center, she felt something cold and wet hit her cheek, then her hand, then her nose. Quickly, she pulled her umbrella from her tote and snapped it open. This was just wonderful. As if Roy wasn't in a bad enough mood without the added gloom of the rain.

Umbrella in hand, Riza crossed the street, careful not to splash in the quickly forming puddles. Traffic was usually heavy today and temporarily halted her passage to the command center. The boxy vehicle blocking her way finally moved, revealing two uniformed men in dark cloaks, kneeling over something lying on the sidewalk. She could see glimpses of blue peeking from between the black of the cloaks. One of the men looked like Havoc. The other one was small with dark hair. Fuery. They spoke words in hurried voices that Riza could not quite understand.

Ever the soldier, she pulled her pistol from the holster at her side and advanced with caution. As she made her way nearer, her acute eyes noticed the blue thing on the sidewalk was another uniformed officer.

She hurried now, hearing Havoc mention something about an apparent lack of pulse. He shifted away from the body, allowing Riza a clear view.

The downed man had black hair and three stars on the shoulder of his bloodied uniform.

Riza could think of only one to fit that view.

She ran now, dropping her umbrella and no longer heeding the world around her, crashing to the ground by the downed man's side. Unseeing coal eyes greeted her and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

"Hawkeye," Jean gasped, thankful for someone that could tell him what he needed to do.

Riza didn't waste time asking what happened, or if Roy was even alive. "Doctor. Now." Those were her orders and Jean Havoc ran into the downpour in search of any help he could find.

Riza gasped as she saw the blood pooled around Roy's upper torso. He lay sprawled at an unnatural angle against the stairs to the command center, his weary visage staring coldly at Riza, as if accusing her of failing him.

Rain collected on his face and ran down his nose like false tears. A memory of Brigadier General Hughes's grave forced its way into Riza's head, attacking her concentration. Concentration was key. She had to focus. But how could she focus when the culmination of her life's work and values lay bleeding to death on the street?

Reaching into her coat, Riza retrieved a handkerchief and gently wiped the rain from Roy's face.

"He hates the rain," she muttered before finally screaming to the man hovering helplessly beside her. "Help me get him inside! Don't you know he hates the rain! Help me get him inside!"

Fuery hung his head. He didn't think there was much that anyone could do for Roy now, but he obeyed all the same, fearful of crossing the First Lieutenant in her fragile state.

Riza cradled Roy's head and shoulders while Fuery grabbed his legs. Together they managed to struggle up the steps and into the command center. They lay Roy on a table in the first empty room they came to. She tried not to notice how his arm hung limply off the edge of his makeshift bed.

Without a moment's pause, Riza went straight at Roy's jacket, snapping and ripping the material from him. It was difficult to tell with all the blood, but it looked like there were two entry wounds. As she pulled and tried to remove the jacket, Riza noticed bright red blood oozing slowly and soaking the Lieutenant Colonel's once white undershirt. As hurriedly and yet gentle as possible she removed that layer too until she could see the marred flesh.

"It's bright," she whispered, unable to look away. "Fuery, it's bright!"

The Master Sargent inched around the table to stand behind Riza. He didn't really want to see anything more. Blood tended to make him squeamish. It was a wonder he had yet to faint.

"He's alive… for now," he whispered in awe.

Jean Havoc crashed through the door to the break room without preamble, only earning Riza's attention upon announcing that he had found a doctor. A snowy headed, older man in a white coat ambled into the room, burdened by a heavy leather bag of what appeared to be tools. Riza didn't care who he was or where the man came from. All of her hopes depended upon him and she had no choice but to trust him.

The doctor turned to the Lieutenant. "It's worse that you told me. There's no time to transport him to a hospice. If there's anything to be done, it will have to happen here."

He motioned for Riza to step aside so that he could thoroughly assess his patient. The old man pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow. Sighing heavily he plopped his large bag on the table beside Roy. After retrieving a few pairs of sanitary gloves he turned to the three subordinates staring helplessly at him. "You'll have to assist me."


	2. Sweat

**Unrequited Love:**

It took what felt like days to get the bullets out of Roy's chest. Riza did not pretend to know much about such complicated medical procedures. Still, she did all she could, operating on pure adrenaline and trying to pretend that the dying man on the table was not Roy Mustang. Riza took orders from the doctor, focusing only on the task at hand. Riza was good at following orders. That was something she had always done and she tried to take comfort in that small familiarity.

With Fuery's help, she was able to create a makeshift blood transfusion for Roy. The Lieutenant Colonel and the First Lieutenant had the same blood type and it was imperative that Roy received some amount of blood before the doctor attempted to remove the bullets. Jean sat on the table beside Roy, his hand clutched in a fist and his arm elevated as high as was marginally comfortable. Riza could tell the man was thankful for a more passive way to help. Most people simply weren't comfortable with sticking their fingers inside their friends.

Unfortunately Riza had no other option. Once the doctor declared that Jean had supplied all the blood he could safely give, he asked Riza to spread the first wound as far open as possible so that he could clearly see the bullet.

She swallowed hard, but obeyed all the same. The flesh was warm beneath her gloved fingers and she desperately prayed that Roy wasn't fevered from his condition. The doctor muttered something about a shattered rib and Riza felt herself start to swoon. She didn't want to imagine crushed bone beneath her fingers. It was much simpler if she thought of the bullet like a splinter; something that couldn't cause lasting damage. She had no clue how the doctor would deal with that, she only hoped that he could.

Riza closed her eyes as the doctor's tools gripped the imbedded bullet and twisted it free. Still, she couldn't block the squish and slurping sounds from her mind. More warmth flowing over her fingers snapped her back to attention and quickly she helped the doctor stitch what could be sewn shut and pack the rest of the wound.

The second bullet came free much easier and seemed to have caused much less damage. The snowy headed surgeon had used all of his bandages on the more serious wound and so he ripped up the remains of Roy's shirt to try to staunch the remaining flow of blood.

When it was finally finished, Riza allowed herself to look at Roy's face. Sweat beaded at his brow, confirming Riza's fears of a fever. Somehow her hand found the handkerchief in her pocket and dabbed gently at the clamy skin. He was so pale. He didn't even look like himself. Riza felt as if she were staring down at a ghost.

Tears rimmed the corners of her eyes and now that the adrenaline had subsided, fell freely and ran down her cheeks. Who could have done this? How could she allow this to happen?

Havoc turned to acknowledge her and placed a steady hand on her shoulder. Now that they had done something for Roy and stitched up his wounds, he felt an unexplainable and inordinate amount of relief.

"You've done all you can. Something should be here any moment to transport him to the hospital."

Riza nodded slowly, trying to calm herself for Fuery's sake. The poor man was openly sobbing and making strange little animal noises as he hiccupped through his tears.

Before she could move to comfort the man, a knock sounded at the door. A soldier Riza vaguely recognized waved a team of paramedics into the room and announced that an ambulance had arrived to transport Roy to the hospital.

The weary band of subordinates trailed closely behind Roy's stretcher, making their way cautiously out of the building and down the slippery stairs. The rain had reduced itself to a fine mist and Riza noticed her umbrella still laying open and abandoned on the street as she sidestepped a puddle. She bent quicly to retrieve it and continued to follow the others.

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to all of you who have read, reviewed, and or favorite this story. I hope that you enjoy it and continue to leave your valued feedback. I will continue to update this story as often as possible. Please be patient with me!**


	3. Tears

**Unrequited Love:**

Riza sat in the waiting room with Havoc and Fuery for four very long hours. Eventually Vato Falman and Heymans Breda joined them. No one spoke. For four hours, they simply stared at the wall or at their shoes and waited.

It was torture for Riza. The day's events circled in her head. The image of Roy's dull and unseeing eyes haunted her. She never wanted to see eyes like that again. She couldn't cry. She couldn't speak. All she could do was shake as she gripped the arms of her hard, wooden chair.

Still, she waited, for she had no other place to go. She could think of nothing else to do.

A large woman in a low-cut, purple dress sat beside Riza. One hand clutched at the gaudy, gold necklace at her throat and the other massaged one of her knees.

Riza had failed to notice her approach. She supposed the shock of the morning's events had dulled her senses. Eventually Riza recognized the newcomer as Madame Christmas. She had seen Roy's aunt and foster mother a few times in the recent past. Of course she would want to be here. The woman wasn't crying either. Like the rest of them, she only sat and stared, nervously playing with the metal and the beads at her throat.

Silently, they all waited.

After four grueling hours and two emergency surgeries later, Roy Mustang was finally moved to a regular room. The doctor had given no clues as to Roy's current condition, but stated that he would be allowed visitors. Riza watched passively as Madame Christmas unsteadily rose from her seat and left the waiting room upon hearing the doctor's news. Roy was alive. She had heard all she needed to hear.

Without a spoken word, it was agreed that Riza would be the first to see Roy. All the men knew recognized the Lieutenant's feelings for Roy as more than mere devotion, even if the Lieutenant herself did not. Still shaking, she took a deep breath and allowed the doctor to escort her to Roy's room.

Hospitals had always made Riza feel ill at ease. Seeing Roy's unconscious form against whitewashed walls, wrapped in white sheets, and swathed in white bandages did nothing for the queasiness in her stomach.

Still, Riza drug a chair over to Roy's bedside. A nurse had informed her that the chances of the Lieutenant Colonel's survival, even now after the bullets had been removed, were still slim to none. But she couldn't just give up. Drawing another deep breath, she forced herself to look at Roy's face. Surrounded by all the white, he appeared even more ghostly. He still hadn't woken up. Riza didn't feel as if she could blame him for that. Pumped full of painkillers, he would probably be asleep for a while. It was strange. He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed and breathing steadily. He wasn't so sweaty any more, either. Apparently someone had done something to lower the fever.

Once, when her mother had been in the hospital, a doctor had told her that even though unconscious people were supposedly unable to hear anything else in the room, it didn't hurt to talk to them. It took a couple of tries, but eventually Riza started to speak to Roy.

"I always told you that mouth of yours would get you in trouble," she chuckled nervously.

Roy didn't react.

"Madame Christmas came to see you."

Still, no reaction.

Riza swallowed roughly. Talking to an unresponsive person was more difficult than she had remembered it. Everything about this was so utterly wrong. Roy wasn't supposed to just lay there. He was supposed to reply. He always had some witty quip prepared just for her. Now his silences were nearly unbearable.

"She left. I don't think she wanted to give away her connection to you, but of course she had to know you were alright."

She closed her eyes in an effort to block the tears that were beginning to form once more. Maybe it would be easier to talk to him if she didn't focus her attention on Roy's pasty, unmoving form.

Still with eyes closed, Riza reached for Roy's hand, gently brushing her thumb over the raised scars.

"I should have been there." She nearly choked on the words. "I should have, I should have been there with you. You idiot, why didn't you call me sooner! I would have been there with or without orders. Protecting you is my job. Why do you always have to make it so difficult for me to do my job?"

She risked peeking one eye open at him, half expecting that trademark smirk to greet her. It didn't and she snapped her eyes shut once more.

"I wish I knew what was worth this," she breathed in an effort to control her trembling voice. "Is climbing to the top really worth this?"

She squeezed his hand as she repeated the question. She shook in an effort to suppress the sobs building within her. When she finally dared to open her eyes completely once more, she saw that nothing had changed.

Roy's sleeping visage remained unaffected by the pain in her voice and the treacherous tears that now snaked down his subordinate's face.

Riza brushed a strand of jet black hair away from Roy's eyes in a display of emotion that she rarely allowed herself. She supposed it didn't matter now. It wasn't as if he would remember.

As she lightly ran her fingers across his brow, she thought she felt Roy twitch beneath her fingertips.

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for reviewing. Those reviews really mean a lot to me. They make my day. So please, continue to review! I can't beg you enough ! I got a little bored tonight and drew sketches to go with the first two chapters of this fic. The links below should take you there, but you'll have to remove the spaces.**

**http :/ kyra-illion .deviantart. com /art /Advance-with-Caution-231246628**

**http :/kyra-illion .deviantart. com /art /Blood-Sweat-and-Tears-231289211**


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